All Rodents' Eve
by EnchantedApril
Summary: Another Rat!Fic... this one is the sequel to Yankee Doodle Rodent. It's Halloween in Princeton, Steve has eaten too much chocolate, House is at his witty best, and of course there is just an undercurrent of angst... because theirs is not a fuzzy 'ship
1. Chapter 1

**Well, another holiday looms, and so of course Steve started prodding me to be brought out of retirement! These are always fun to write, but at the same time, I hope that I do the characters justice by not making things too fluffy or out of character. I guess I'll leave it for all of you to decide!**

**All Rodent's Eve**

**Chapter 1 **

October thirty-first, and Princeton was entering the last stages of autumn. The beginning of the month had held Indian Summer days and brilliant colored leaves, but now those days were coming to an end. A strong rainstorm over the weekend had dulled the leaves and sent many of them to the ground where they now swirled around waiting to be gathered up and discarded. Cameron made her way from her car to the hospital entrance, some of those same stray leaves crunching beneath her feet. She breathed in the earthy smell of the season and the distant smoke of a bonfire and she smiled.

The allegorical attributes given to autumn should have carried even more weight with her. The dying year, the withering life, the loneliness of existence. They had all been made concrete by the death of her husband at just that time of year, almost fifteen years earlier. She had mourned him every year since, and the bright flash of color followed so quickly by death, had always been a powerful reminder of what she had lost.

But this year she was walking through fallen leaves and smiling.

She had mourned privately, as usual, sequestering herself away in her apartment for a weekend, flipping through her wedding album, calling his parents, letting a few tears fall on the letter he'd written to her and enclosed with his will. Then, Sunday night, House had called and told her that he and Steve were lonely, and she had realized that none of them needed to be.

Her relationship with House had improved after the Fourth of July. Improved by going back to the way it had been prior to his shooting. It would never improve all the way to perfection. They still argued and kept quiet too often and were terrible about actually sharing their feelings. Yet they were undeniably happier in one another's company. They spent most weekends together and half of the weeknights as well, as long as they didn't have a critical patient. There was nothing thrilling or overly romantic about their times together. They would eat, watch television, very occasionally go out to the movies (where no one would see them), or out to dinner or a concert in some town outside Princeton (where no one would see them). Then they would sleep together, literally and figuratively, with hardly a word spoken between them, but with touches that said more than either of them would ever be willing to say.

The night of October thirtieth was one where they'd only had time for Chinese take-out and half an episode of "Lost". House always mocked the show mercilessly but he never made her change the channel. However, a page from the hospital had interrupted them and when they'd finally left their patient it had been close to two in the morning and they'd each gone back to their own apartments to get what little sleep remained.

Still, despite a certain amount of sleep deprivation, Cameron found herself in a good mood, and the smile remained on her face as she entered the hospital and made her way to the diagnostics department. She had been there for almost an hour, had consumed two cups of coffee, traded clinic hours with Chase, told Foreman that their patient seemed to be experiencing more neurological symptoms, and was in the middle of answering House's mail when she heard House's voice out in the hallway. She heard another familiar metallic rattling before she saw the source. In fact that sound was what made her glance up from the envelope she was neatly slicing open.

"What's Steve doing here?" she asked as she watched House limp into the office with Steve's travel cage in one hand and a plastic grocery bag in the other.

"He's here because thanks to your little-miss-nice-guy routine, he's probably dying."

The horrified look on Cameron's face failed to make House soften the blow with a follow-up statement.

"What? What are you talking about?" She asked quickly as she walked up to House and took the cage out of his hand. "He was fine last night."

Last night was when she had last been at House's place. Last night was when she'd shared dinner with him and watched television while Steve split his time between their shoulders.

"Yeah, well that was last night. This morning I discovered that he'd weaseled his way out of his cage and raided that bag of peanut butter cups you so thoughtfully brought over for the little hooligans who are taking over the streets tonight."

Cameron had set the cage down on the desk and crouched down so that she could look Steve in the eye. Now her look of fear, slid away and her face took on a more relaxed expression.

"So he ate some of them?"

"He ate three of them," House replied, grumpily.

Beneath the scowl and bad temper, House actually looked a little bit afraid and Cameron was instantly sympathetic. If it was silly to be so attached to a small rodent, then they were both in the same boat. While they never talked about, defined or solidified their relationship, Steve was something they could discuss with affection.

"I don't think that much chocolate will kill him," she told him.

"So you're a vet now? Chocolate kills dogs. It probably kills rats even faster."

"Rats eat everything. Do you really think the species would survive if it was sensitive to certain foods?"

"So says you," House replied and then childishly stuck his tongue out at her.

She rolled her eyes and knew that he wasn't really that worried.

"I'm going to guess that you didn't tell Cuddy that you were declaring today 'Bring Your Rat To Work Day', huh?"

"What she doesn't know, won't hurt me. Now scoot over so I can tuck little Steve in the corner."

Chase and Foreman returned to the office soon after Steve McQueen was settled on House's bookcase. They were talking animatedly but stopped when they caught sight of Steve running laps on his exercise wheel. 

"You brought your rat to the hospital?" Foreman asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

"He's got a tummy ache and needed his mommy," House said, jerking his head in Cameron's direction.

Her eyes sprang open wider and a blush crept up her neck. They hadn't breathed a word of their relationship to anyone but Cuddy, and she was startled at House's blasé remark. She couldn't be sure if he assumed that Chase and Foreman would think it was a joke or if he suddenly didn't care what they knew or thought.

"Yeah, right," Chase replied, easily taking House's comment in stride. "Cameron wouldn't touch a rat with a ten foot pole."

At that, the woman in question sent an irritated look in Chase's direction and then rolled her eyes. She wasn't sure what House expected her to say, and so she said nothing.

"That's where you're wrong. She's a regular rat-wrangler," House continued, shooting a broad wink across the room at Cameron.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. Can we get on with the case?" As usual, Foreman was the first to tire of House's antics.

"Hmm. I don't recall dying and making you boss," House said pointedly. "In fact I think you're the one who's supposed to run around saying things like 'Yes, Boss, whatever you say, Boss', aren't you?"

Foreman kept his mouth shut and crossed his arms in a familiar stance.

House rolled his eyes dramatically and limped towards the conference room, the other doctors in tow. "Oh, fine. Spoil all the fun."

They gathered around the whiteboard for another round of 'Guess That Ailment' and half an hour later they all had different ideas and different assignments. Well, all except House. He'd assigned himself to watch television while keeping and eye on Steve. As the group broke up, Foreman and Chase went out the main door, but Cameron lingered behind before cutting through House's office.

"Trouble, little lady?" House asked. His television was tuned to an old black and white cowboy movie, and Steve was perched on his knee eating sunflower seeds out of his hand.

She'd followed him in order to ask him what was up. He was acting almost too cheerful, and almost all of his comments about her had all been nice ones. Was he trying to get them caught? Seeing Steve sitting there calmly nibbling away, made her smile and momentarily lose track of her train of thought.

"Stroke?"

"What? No, he doesn't have any symptoms of stroke," Cameron said, confused.

"I was talking about you. You froze in place and I was afraid maybe something had burst in that little brain of yours."

She let out a slightly exasperated sigh. "No. I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

"Don't you mean Steve? He's the one who might be dying."

"He's not dying."

"Yeah, so you've said."

"Anyway, if he is dying then why are you in such a good mood about it?"

"No sense making his last moments all scary and sad," House said, putting on an a face of exaggerated pathos before immediately replacing it with a sly grin.

"You're impossible."

"Yeah, but that's never bothered you before."

Cameron just shook her head and started towards the door. She had her hand on the door handle when House spoke again.

"It's Halloween," he said. "All the sugar puts me in a good mood."

He looked sincere, and Cameron's mouth tilted up into a quirky smile before she rolled her eyes again, good naturedly this time, and left the office. She'd been assigned to get a better patient history and to follow it up with a lumbar puncture to rule out encephalitis and she waited for the elevator to arrive and take her down to the cafeteria where she knew the patient's family was gathered. She sometimes found it a good idea to talk to family first. It was easier for her to tell if the patient was lying when she already knew a bit about them and about the family dynamics that might lead to a desire to cover up unseemly details.

Wilson was apparently wearing some new silent-sole shoes, because she didn't hear him walk up behind her and when he tapped her on the shoulder she nearly jumped through the stainless steel elevator doors.

"I didn't even get a chance to say 'Boo'," he said, but when Cameron glared at him he held up both hands in apology. "Sorry, didn't realize you were so jumpy."

"I'm usually not," she replied.

"Yeah, I'd have thought House would have trained that out of you by now," he joked.

"His idea of practical jokes isn't exactly subtle, no," she said dryly, remembering instances of spring-loaded peanut cans and silly-string attacks while she was showering.

While her relationship with House had grown deeper, she'd been pleased at the fact that her friendship with Wilson had also grown stronger. It was nice to feel like she had a strong ally at the hospital as well as someone she could talk to about House. As a friendship, it didn't rank anywhere close to the one she knew the two men shared, but it was still warm and comfortable and she was grateful for it.

"He must be in a good mood today," Wilson remarked as the elevator doors opened.

"What makes you say that?"

"He paged me, told me to get him a donut, and actually gave me the money for it."

Cameron laughed. House and his money were not easily parted.

"I was actually a little worried this morning," she said, pressing the button for the ground floor. "His good moods throw me off. He made a few vague remarks in front of the others that made me think he was just a step away from declaring that we're an item," she said, schooling her voice to a calm cheerfulness.

"He probably wouldn't use those words," Wilson teased. "He'd probably just start calling you his ball and chain."

The chart in her hands became very interesting and she studied it while saying, "Yes, and then it would only be one more step before he'd decide that our relationship was affecting our work and ending it all."

Wilson's expression changed from jovial to concerned as he touched Cameron's arm.

"That didn't sound as much like a joke as mine did," he said.

"Well you have to admit that it's hard to know what's going through his mind sometimes."

"Sometimes," he agreed. "Not this time. He's… content…" he said, not feeling quite comfortable with using 'happy' to describe his bitter and misanthropic friend. "He's not thinking about ending anything."

Cameron raised her eyes to his and a small smile tugged the corners of her mouth briefly.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Now what's this I hear about you poisoning Steve?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The noise in the cafeteria was at the highest level it would reach all day. It was just past noon, and for some reason people never considered that perhaps if they didn't go to lunch right at the strike of twelve then they wouldn't have to wait in such long lines. Cameron was among those people, along with Chase and Foreman. The cerebral fluid Cameron had collected had revealed markers for Guillain-Barré syndrome and their patient, though not yet well, was at least resting comfortably. They expected him to be transferred to immunology within the hour.

The three doctors had just found a table when Cameron's pager started going off. It was a page from House and she quickly glanced at it and slipped it back into her pocket.

"Patient?" Foreman asked.

"No. House."

Chase had a mouth full of sandwich but mumbled, "What does he want?"

"No idea, but I'll never hear the end of it if I don't go up and find out," she replied as she picked up her salad and fork.

"Probably just wants you to bring him lunch," Foreman joked.

"I wouldn't be surprised," she said, and then left the two men to shake their heads over what they still saw as her little crush.

She thought about grabbing him a Reuben before heading up, but took one look at the still lengthy line and changed her mind. If he wanted lunch, he'd have to get it for himself for a change. Fortunately, the fact that most people had migrated to the cafeteria meant that the hallways were clear and she didn't have to squeeze into the elevator with nine other people, or stop at each floor on the way up.

The sound of jazz music carried down the hallway and Cameron heard it almost as soon as she got off the elevator. A trumpet solo had just started when she pushed open House's office door and he glanced up at her as if surprised to see her.

"What's the emergency?" she asked, and he grinned at her lecherously and turned the music down.

"Steve and I came to a decision."

"A decision about what?" she asked, not quite liking the sound of that.

House tossed a bag across the room, and Cameron froze for an instant before thrusting out her arms to catch it.

"What's this?"

"You have a habit of asking questions you could easily find the answers for yourself," he replied, flashing his eyes towards the bag in her hands.

She pulled it open and saw a Halloween costume inside, still neat within its plastic package. Even without removing it from the bag, she could see that the image on the front of the package was of a svelte blonde woman in a scandalously short nurses' uniform that would never be standard issue in any hospital. She looked over at him and smirked, eyebrows arching above the rims of her glasses.

"What? You don't like it?"

"Oh yes, I always dreamed of being a naughty nurse, especially when I was pulling thirty-six hour shifts during my residency."

"Hey, blame Steve. He's the one who insisted. I wanted to get the Alice in Wonderland costume." House jerked his thumb in the direction of Steve's cage. The rat was curled into a ball, and sound asleep.

Cameron stepped closer to the desk and stood with one hand on her hip and one leg positioned just forward enough that her slender calf was shown to good advantage beneath the hem of her lab coat. She enjoyed seeing a look of desire in House's eyes. He hadn't always allowed her to see that, even after they'd started sleeping together.

"Well I'll make you and Steve a deal, then," she told him. "I'll play the naughty nurse if you'll be the naked patient."

House didn't even miss a beat although Cameron could see his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.

"Doesn't Steve get a part to play?"

She shook her head and grinned. "Not this time."

He rubbed his chin while affecting an air of deep thought. "Hmm. Well, I guess the conditions of your deal seem fair enough. Steve may be a little disappointed, but he is a little young for that kind of action."

Cameron managed suppress her laughter and settled on another smirk. Her conversation with Wilson had lifted the weight of foreboding from her mind and it felt nice to banter with him so easily without the angsty undertone that so often infiltrated their conversations.

"I think I need to add the stipulation that you fetch me a Reuben."

"Not a chance," she replied cheekily. "You're on your own there."

Then, knowing that House's eyes were on her, she let her hips sway more than usual as she walked through the connecting door and on towards her desk. She needed to hide the costume in her bag before the others came back.

* * *

While House was down getting his lunch, Cameron was at her desk eating hers. Every so often she would pluck out a crouton and put it on a napkin beside her plate. She managed to completely finish her meal before House returned and she couldn't help but feel a little smug about that. She was very glad that she hadn't agreed to play his gopher. After picking up the crouton-laden napkin, she pushed back her chair and headed back into House's office.

Steve was still lying in the corner of his cage and she sat down in House's chair and examined the furry little creature.

"Hi there, Steve," she said quietly, expecting him to immediately skitter to his feet.

Instead, he remained curled up and for a minute she wondered if perhaps he really was having a bad reaction to the chocolate he'd eaten. Her heart beat a couple of double-taps against the inside of her chest and she could feel her face flush. She didn't even want to think about what would happen if Steve actually died.

"C'mon, boy, I've brought you a treat, and I know you'll like it," she was wheedling a rat and couldn't even find it in herself to be embarrassed about that fact. "Nice, tasty, food, Steve, and it's just waiting for you."

She reached out and stuck the tip of her index finger through the bars, just enough to lightly brush the fur on his back. That seemed to rouse him and a second later, two black-pearl eyes were blinking up at her. The deep breath of relief that entered Cameron's lungs was particularly sweet. Steve lazily gathered himself together, stood up, yawned and then, finally seeming to really recognize the woman who was staring at him, scampered closer to her and stood up on his hind feet.

"Oh yeah, now you're awake," Cameron said with a grin. "One of these days, food really will be your downfall," she continued, wagging her finger at him, "but not today."

She held up a crouton and Steve spun in a circle and then stood up on his hind legs again, whiskers twitching. Cameron giggled in a way she only did when playing with Steve. House had often mocked her for that giggle, but she didn't care. Very carefully, she passed the crouton through the cage bars and released it when Steve had it between his paws. He immediately sat down on his haunches and gnawed away on it in a most endearing fashion. He polished off another one in much the same way and then took the third and tucked it under a pile of bedding.

The work-ethic part of Cameron's personality told her that she should do some charting or head down to the clinic. Instead she opened Steve's cage and let him crawl up her arm and under her hair. The only explanation for the next thought that entered her mind was that House's good mood was rubbing off on her.

"Now Steve," she said seriously, as she plucked him from her shoulder. "I know you like it under there but I think that may be a little bit too obvious for what I have planned."

She stood up then, and gently deposited Steve into one of her lab coat's deep pockets. She was half way out the door when House returned. He took one look at her, one look at Steve's cage, and then looked back at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Why is that a rat in your pocket, Dr. Cameron, or are you just happy to see me?" he said, then slapped himself on the forehead. "Wait… scratch that… I've seen you naked and you definitely didn't pull a "Crying Game" on me. That means you've definitely got my rat in your pocket. The next question is: Why?"

Cameron's expression while he'd been speaking, had gone from mildly startled to mildly amused.

"I remembered that there's a Halloween party up in the children's ward and I thought I'd bring Steve up for show and tell."

"Oh yes, I'm sure that all of the parents will love having a rat around their immuno-compromised children."

"Hey, I seem to remember you saying that Steve's the healthiest rat around."

"Yes, but try telling that to a parent. They can be so pigheaded," he said in a mockingly sarcastic tone.

"I think that the fact that a doctor is bringing him in will help."

"Yeah, well have you considered that Steve is still at death's door? Maybe so much excitement won't be good for him."

"House, he is not dying. He's fine," Cameron insisted, leaving out the part about how worried she'd been just a short while earlier.

"And what if he gets lost up there? It's a big hospital. He doesn't know his way around."

Cameron had to laugh, and House just stood there, hand tightening on his cane as he realized that they sounded like a couple of parents arguing over whether or not their son was old enough for little league baseball. Part of him wanted to laugh with Cameron, but another part was unable to quite let go of the thought that he was going soft and it was all because of her and a rat.

"I promise to take very good care of him," Cameron told him, patting her pocket tenderly.

House let out a sound that was part grunt and part sigh. He waved her off, walked away from her and dropped down into his lounging chair. "Fine. Go. But you'd better not tell anyone who owns him."

"My lips are sealed."

She quickly left and House watched her go while he twirled his cane between long, skillful fingers. He knew that his relatively good mood wasn't really because of his relationship with Cameron. He also knew that in two days time he could just as easily be in a foul temper and spouting off snide remarks to everyone who crossed his path. What he couldn't quite wrap his mind around was the fact that when and if that dark mood settled over him, she would still be there.


	3. Chapter 3

The last part of this little story. I've enjoyed writing it, and I hope everyone has enjoyed reading it. Let me know!

Chapter 3

Cameron's trip to the children's ward went perfectly, and of course Steve was the hit of the party once all the parents were convinced that he was clean and disease-free. The little rat spent time with each child and loved the attention. Just as she'd promised, Cameron watched over the proceedings very carefully and made sure that Steve didn't eat anything he wasn't supposed to and didn't make any bold escape attempts. She personally thought that Steve was probably thanking his lucky stars that he'd been domesticated and wouldn't even think of running away. After all, she'd lost him once herself and he'd quickly come back on his own.

After an hour of fun, Cameron scooped Steve up from the last child's lap and held him up to receive a rousing ovation from his new-found fans. She was grinning from ear to ear. Sometimes her job and the patients involved left her feeling a certain sense of sadness about life in general and it was nice to be open and cheerful. True, all of the children in the room were suffering from serious illnesses, but they were all happy, at least for the moment, and there was no need to pry secrets out of them or dispel their notions of innocence. It was very different from her daily experiences in diagnostics. Yes, they almost always cured their patients, but often at the expense of their privacy and her faith in humankind. Her steps felt lighter as she walked down the hall and entered the elevator.

House was sitting at his desk, video game in hand, when Cameron entered his office.

"Well you were gone long enough. I suppose you let Steve eat even more of the poison that's already running through his veins," he said.

Cameron let out an aggrieved sigh. "You're not going to drop the poisoning thing, are you?" she said as she pulled Steve from her pocket and carefully deposited him on the desk.

"Nope," he replied and then set his game down and let Steve climb into his hands.

"Where are the others?"

"Let 'em go early. No cases, and I was tired of watching them play paper football. They really suck at it."

"You could have gone home too and just left me a note."

"No way. I can't trust you to make Steve wear his seatbelt."

Cameron smirked and crossed her arms while House lifted Steve up and relocated him to his cage.

"Sooo…" she said slowly.  
"Is this where you weasel an invitation outta me?"

They didn't usually talk about what their plans were, they just sort of ended up at the same place at the end of the day. Cameron fidgeted for a moment before House's steady gaze caught hers and held.

"I need someone to hand out candy," he said gruffly. "That sounds right up your alley, and there is the matter of that costume." His eyebrows waggled suggestively.

Cameron's smirk grew into more of an indulgent grin.

"I'll just run home to get changed," she told him.

House nodded and stood up, grabbing his jacket in one hand and Steve's cage in the other.

"Sounds good," he said, cane making soft thumps as he limped to the door. "Bring something for tomorrow too," were his last words before quickly exiting.

Apparently she would be spending the night.

It was only a matter of a few minutes before Cameron had her computer shut down and her things gathered together. Her apartment was on the other side of the campus and she drove slowly because she thought that some kids would be out early. She did see a couple in costume, but they were being hustled into cars and she guessed that they were off to some party or trick-or-treating at the mall, which was a phenomenon she still couldn't quite understand.

She could remember the Halloweens of her youth when groups of friends would go running through the rural neighborhoods, knocking on doors, eating themselves sick and playing harmless little pranks. There was just something about gathering candy in a brightly lit mall that just seemed wrong. She wondered what House had done for Halloween as a child. She had a feeling that his pranks had been much more serious than tipping over garden gnomes.

Her apartment was freezing when she walked in, but she didn't bother turning up the heat. She couldn't recall if it had seemed so cold the year before, but then remembered being curled up on the sofa while rat-sitting Steve, and then the lonely weeks that had followed. She moved quickly as she changed her clothes and tossed another outfit into her gym bag. She was locking up and back on the road again within fifteen minutes.

"Hurry up, hurry up," House admonished her when he opened his door and rushed her inside.

"What's the big deal?"

"Don't you hear the little urchins? They're right down the street. If you were any later, I might have had to answer the door myself."

"They're children, not demons. I think you could have managed," she replied, shrugging off her coat.

"You say that now. You haven't seen them yet."

Actually she had seen them on the corner when she'd pulled onto his street and they'd looked quite adorable in their little costumes. She had a feeling that House was, as they say, protesting just a bit too much. She knew that he actually liked kids… or at least didn't dislike them as much as most other people. The bags of candy she'd brought over the day before, were spread out on the counter and she rummaged around for a big mixing bowl and dumped everything into it just as the first knock sounded on the old wooden door.

An hour after that first knock, four bags of candy were gone and the kids were still coming. Cameron was handing out treats with a smile on her face and Steve on her shoulder. House had poured out two glasses of scotch and was making a fire. Like most men, fire building was a job he enjoyed. Unlike most men, he'd actually analyzed the reasons why. Fire was destructive and dangerous and being in control of it was a powerful feeling. It was, in fact, very similar to the feelings he got while working, and in some ways, better. He could always diagnose what was wrong with a person, but he couldn't always cure it. His control in that matter was frustratingly limited.

The paper he'd stuck between the neatly stacked logs curled up and shriveled away as he watched the flames consume it and lick at the dry wood. When he was sure that he didn't need to add any more paper or kindling, he closed the fire screen and reached out for his cane. Kneeling down wasn't one of his favorite activities, and he levered himself to his feet, noting that at least it didn't seem to hurt quite as much as it had six months earlier. It was one in a list of things that deserved his gratitude, but he generally didn't like to think about that list. Expressing gratitude for something meant that you were just one step away from having it taken away.

Giggling children made him look over at Cameron, and he saw that Steve was peeking out from under her hair, much to the amusement of the little moppet at the door dressed as Cinderella. It was a scene right out of a Hallmark commercial, albeit a strange one, and he stared at them and then at the fire and then at himself, reflected dimly in the bowed window behind the piano. He suddenly felt that he was Ozzie Nelson, and Cameron was playing the part of Harriet while Steve was 'point five' of their children. That much normalcy made him uncomfortable in the same way that gratitude made him uncomfortable.

He thumped away from the fire, slouched down on the sofa with his feet up and dropped his cane to the floor. Cameron glanced over her shoulder at him and looked like she was about to open her mouth to say something in response to his grim expression, but the soft rapping at the door grabbed her attention again, and she opened it and smiled at the group of children shouting their Halloween greeting.

Over the next ten minutes, House's quietness became increasingly troubling to her. He had been fairly well-behaved earlier; opening bags of candy for her, insulting the costumes only after the kids were on their way to the next house, and even those insults ended up sounding closer to heavily veiled compliments. Now he was concentrating on the shifting flames in the fireplace and studiously avoiding her and the door. Another group of children, accompanied by their father, knocked at the door and she put her musings aside while she answered it, handed out the candy and fielded questions about little Steve.

When she closed the door, House was still staring into the fire, but the words coming out of his mouth were directed at her.

"Trying to pick up men by using Steve to get their interest? I thought only men operated that way."

She put the bowl of candy down on the table beside the door and walked over to the sofa. House might prefer not to face her when he spoke, but one thing she'd learned during their relationship was that eye contact was essential.

"Why would I be picking up men when I've already snagged you?" she quipped.

He snorted in response and she pushed his legs out of the way and sat down. The little twitch beside his left eye told her that he was thinking too much, and the straight line of his mouth told her that it wasn't about good things.

"What's wrong? Half an hour ago, you were in a good mood. Well, as good as they get for you, anyway."

"Moodiness is one of my charms. I thought you knew that."

"True, but that doesn't mean I can't tell when there's something bothering you. Are you going to tell me what it is, or are you going to sulk and ruin your chances of seeing me in that ridiculous outfit you bought me?"

One eyebrow rose and he slowly turned towards her. He could tell that her threat was serious and even with the sudden cloud of pessimism hovering over him, that threat was one that got his attention.

"Nothing's wrong," he griped. "That's the problem. It's all feeling just a little too domestic. I don't like that. We should not resemble a sitcom family. That much saccharine is one step from cancellation."

Cameron reached up to her shoulder, retrieved Steve and held him out to House.

"Sitcoms have fluffy dogs and cute kids. They don't have rats," she said bluntly. "Having a night or even a few nights of relative contentment does not mean that the world about to end."

"That's what you think. Familiarity breeds contempt. There's no way all of this is going to last," he replied, motioning in the air to encompass the room, the fire, Steve and the two of them.

"So?"

He blinked at her. That wasn't the response he was expecting and he wasn't prepared to rebut it.

"Is the fact that you think none of this is going to last, a reason not to enjoy it while it does?"

He blinked again. She was supposed to be arguing that of course things were going to last forever, and that he should cheer up and be happy about life. He looked into her eyes and saw the seriousness there. She wasn't looking at their life together with anything but a clear eye and a rational mind. There were definitely no rose-colored glasses involved. He supposed that he shouldn't be surprised at her attitude. It had been almost a year since the weekend she'd kept Steve, and he'd never seen any signs of over-enthusiasm or unbounded joy. Most of the time, she was almost as cautious and guarded as he was.

"I really don't believe in happily ever after," she said, "but I've learned not to squander the happiness I do have."

Steve chose that moment to scurry from House's hands and up to his shoulder, little whiskers tickling at his ear, and ratty breath drifting against his neck. House considered that Cameron might have a point and apparently Steve was trying to reinforce it. He grunted in Cameron's general direction, because he was never one to verbally admit that he was wrong. Luckily she didn't require that because she could see the tight lines in his face relax and that was good enough for her. A loud knock broke the silence and she gave him a little smile, chanced a brush of her fingertips along his knee, and stood to answer the door.

When eight o'clock rolled around and the last of the costumed kiddos finished their rounds, Cameron collapsed onto the sofa with the empty candy bowl in her lap.

"You have that many kids every year?" she asked, looking a bit weary, but happy.

"Wouldn't know. I usually turn off all the lights and pretend I'm not here."

Cameron's short burst of laughter was followed by, "I should have known."

Steve had been returned to his cage, and he was happily eating his food and preparing for a nice long nap. Cameron nodded in his direction.

"Looks like Steve's going to survive," she commented dryly.

"Hmm. He got lucky."

Cameron rolled her eyes and soaked in the warmth from the fire and the strong body next to her.

"So, you ready for some scary movies now?" House asked, face contorting into an expression of boyish excitement. "I'm sure we can find plenty of gore-fests on tv."

"Let's not and say we did."

"Ghost stories?"

"I don't really want to think about people haunting me." She was concentrating on the fire and tugging at her lower lip and House immediately knew what she was thinking about.

They had never discussed it. There had been that one moment in the chapel and Cameron had stayed at her own apartment for a few nights, and then they had resumed their usual routine and not another word had been said. He hadn't even commented when she'd given him Ezra's chart to sign off on.

They'd never talked about it, and House didn't really want to start now, but his mouth opened anyway, and words fell out.

"I think he'd be thanking you, not haunting you."

She shrugged and replied, "Maybe."

"I--"

"I was glad you came and found me that morning," she said, cutting him off. "I needed you to acknowledge what I'd done… not to validate it, but just to know. I'm still not sure why."

House knew why. Helping a person die, even at that person's request, was an incredibly hard burden to carry alone.

"Saying you were proud of me was the best and worst thing you could have said."

"Scared that it meant you were becoming a little too much like me? That really would be horrific. Especially the three-day scruff." He tried to sound offended, but he actually wasn't. He could understand what she'd been going through. He'd been there himself.

"Scared that I could lose myself to you," she replied quietly.

"Well what's wrong with that? After all, I'm always right."

His words were easing the knot that had formed in her stomach, and she smirked at him.

"First of all, you're not always right, and second, I don't want to lose myself to anyone. I've already done that once."

The serious tone of her last sentence made House put aside the snarky joke he'd planned.

"You're learning some hard lessons. You aren't losing yourself to anyone. You're stronger than that, and trust me, I'd fire you before I let you turn into me."

She looked up at him and a tiny crinkle appeared above the bridge of her nose as she concentrated on reading his ever-mercurial features.

"You really would."

"Damn right. Cuddy can barely handle one of me. I don't need any clones."

He made the unusual move of letting his arm slide off the back of the sofa and fall across her shoulders. When he tugged her closer and let her rest her head against his shoulder, he told himself it was because he didn't want to look at those doe eyes of hers any more.

Cameron concentrated on the warmth again. Warmth from the fire, the room, House, and the little glow that refused to be tamped down by her more cynical side. She would take her own advice about enjoying the moment. They were quiet as they sat there, listening to the wind pick up outside and watching the flames slowly burn down.

"So," House said, as the last log collapsed in on itself, "When do I get to see that stunning little ass of yours in costume?"

It was entirely typical and Cameron shook her head while at the same time, grinning. She pulled herself from House's loose, one-armed embrace and walked towards the bedroom.

"I believe that your appointment is in ten minutes," she said coyly, from the doorway. "Don't be late."

House felt the stirrings of certain parts of his anatomy as she disappeared inside and shut the door. He definitely wasn't going to be late.


End file.
